


Down Feathers

by PSIDontKnow



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: (this is Devilman yall), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I will make tags for Akira's mom and dad on my own, If they live to see late teens ;), Mentions of Jenny, Possible pairings in the future, characters to be added as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-03-18 16:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13685238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PSIDontKnow/pseuds/PSIDontKnow
Summary: Reijiro Fudo liked to think he was a strong man, that he was fair and didn’t turn to vices easily, but he needed a stiff drink… Maybe a few. Other children brought home hurt birds and stray dogs, maybe a frog or a lizard at strangest, but his tenderhearted son had brought home an unconscious child.------------------In which Akira finds a young winged boy on the beach and it makes life much much stranger.





	1. Down

**Author's Note:**

> Back at it again with Gratuitous AUs

     Akira Fudo liked to think he was very mature for being six. He could brush his teeth on his own, help his mom cook, help his dad sort out boring papers, and - most importantly - he could walk down the beach by himself. Not too far and he couldn't swim - because he’s small and the ocean is big so it could easily carry him away - but he can explore and collect seashells as long as he listens for his parents to call for him. This is a newly granted freedom and he's so focused on it, on seeing if he can find any cool shells or scuttling crabs as he walks with a branch turned walking stick, that he almost trips over something.

     Someone.

     He falls on his behind, eyes round at the sight of someone - a kid around his age - loosely curled up and sleeping on the beach, close enough that the water laps at their legs, that they'll surely drown when high tide comes in. It’s Akira’s duty as a very mature six year old to wake up this kid up before they get hurt. As he goes to shake their shoulder though, he catches sight of something weird. Feathers, in their hair, in the sand around them, a soft warm white like lightbulbs in a fancy restaurant. He scooches up on his knees, a little closer, a little higher, to peer over the stranger's back and gasps at the sight there. Wings, feathery and fluffy at the same time, six of them spread out behind them, some bent strange, some spread along the sand like a beach towel. Now that he looks closer he can tell that there's more wings, a set in their hair, another on their ankles, a third (sixth?) pair draped over their butt. (and he can't help but giggle at that, butt wings) there's wings everywhere, but also nasty sunburns, near purple and scaly, scratches and bruises under those and Akira is thinking that maybe -

     Maybe he needs an adult for this.

     But he can't leave this kid on the beach, burnt and broken, golden hair matted, can’t leave them alone not knowing that help is coming. Akira doesn’t want to hurt them worse by tugging at the knots in their hair or by shaking their shoulder. He eventually settles for trying to wake them up anyways, gently patting a spot on their cheek that isn't burnt.

     "Hey. Hey you need to get up. Heyyyyyyyy" It takes a bit, but the other child begins to stir, shuffling and groaning before a high whimper breaks from them and their eyes open. They're just barely open, cracked against the harshness of the sun and their burns, but they’re bluest eyes Akira has ever seen and he can't help but think that him and the stranger are thinking the same thing.

**_I know you._ **

     The stranger makes another noise, high and pained, almost more bird than human and Akira quickly takes the hand that is haltingly reaching for him.

     "Hey, it’sokay. You're hurt pretty bad but my mom and dad are super smart doctors, so I'm going to run and go get them and then I'll be right back and they’ll fix you up, okay?" He uses his best impression of the doctor that gave him his school shots, of his mother when something is scary, voice soft and soothing before trying to stand. He doesn't get far before the hand in his tightens, the other child letting out another one of those birdlike cries as tears well in their eyes and catch in their lashes. 

     "Nonono, not - alone, don' wanna alone ag’in pl _ eas _ e." Their voice is harsh and cracked. Their arm is shaking as they try to sit up without letting go of Akira’s hand, and, as they begin to cry, so does Akira, crouching back down closer to them.

     "Okay. Oh-okay I won't leave you alone, I'll be right here. Don’t be afraid." He carefully wiggles his free arm under the other kid, pulling them up further and into a hug that they tightly return. It must hurt the burns, the scrapes and bruises that make  Akira worry they're hurt so bad that they must surely be going to die if he doesn't help them. They squeeze him tightly despite this, broken wings twitching behind them as they do, almost as if they want to join the hug too. There’s something just as familiar about the hug, and Akira can’t help turning his head, tucking his face in the other child’s neck as they do the same, neither caring about wiping tears and snot on the other.

     The two children sit like that a while, Akira running a soothing hand through the feathers that make up the others back between the wings as they cry and whimper, saying something in a language that makes his hair stand on end, but it must end. The ocean water is beginning to rise, is beginning to lap at their toes, and Akira knows that his mom and dad will be calling for him any minute.

     "Hey. My mom and dad are gonna want me back soon, I gotta go -" he talks faster as the other jerks in his arms another one of those scared trills ringing out, arms tightening almost painfully around him. " - but I can give you a piggy back ride so that you can come with! That okay?" A weighty pause, a noise like a coo mixed with one of those words he doesn’t know, and the blonde lifts their head to look at Akira with bloodshot blue eyes. There’s snot running from their nose and a fading bruise marring their cheek, but Akira thinks they’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, better than sunsets and the fancy cakes at the bakery.

                         "Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this (and thanks Rory for encouraging this) Devilbaby AU is my new love


	2. Powder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can take dorky Fudos from my cold dead hands

     Reijiro Fudo liked to think he was a strong man, that he was fair and didn’t turn to vices easily, but he needed a stiff drink… Maybe a few. Other children brought home hurt birds and stray dogs, maybe a frog or a lizard at strangest, but his tenderhearted son had brought home an _unconscious child._ Akira had been in hysterics by time he was in the house, tears running down his face as he told them about finding the boy in the surf, about him falling asleep on the way home and not waking up. He begged his parents to 'fix' his new friend, staring at them as though they had all the answers, like any child who loved their parents would. Reijiro didn't see a way to fix a winged boy, especially not one that looked like he'd been through the wringer about eight times too many, but he wants to try. Kaori is not much better than their son, his wife crying as she gently pries the winged boy from Akira’s back, cradling him to her chest and murmuring soft nonsense. She still has tears on her face when she snaps her head up, a determined look on her face.

     "Akira, sweetie, go get the first aid kit, the big one in the study." Her voice is firm, her ‘working’ voice, and it bolsters the boy to give her a sloppy salute - probably copied from some cartoon - before running off. Reijiro moves to take the injured boy from his wife, following her to the brightly lit bathroom. It’s the best place, easy to see and easy reach to clean.

     "I guess all of your years of med school finally pays off, huh?" He jokes lightly, awkwardly shifting the child until his limp head is resting on his shoulder, feverish face pressed to the crook of his neck. (He's mindful of the weird wings as well, gently cradling the child's back between them, making sure that he’s not putting too much pressure on them.)

     "Yuck it up, I still remember you breaking your leg in a foreign supermarket and making me bandage it because you didn’t want to go to a hospital and admit you’d broken it slipping on spilt salsa." Kaori huffs under her breath, all of them crowding into the bathroom. It only takes another second for Akira to come running through the house, sliding past on stocking feet before correcting himself into the bathroom.

     "Mom! I got it!" He looks so proud of himself, presenting the large kit to her before scooching over to his father, sitting on the closed toilet now, holding the boy to where Kaori can get to his wounds. Akira is quick to grab the blonde's limp hand, a determined look on his face even as his eyes begin to well up again.

     Kaori works in quiet for a while, gingerly feeling along the boy's limbs for broken bones, cleaning the cuts out as best as she can as she goes, taking out ace bandages and gauze to reset the wings that are broken - three of them on the right, though all are filthy and in need of a caring hand to remove broken feathers. She has to have Akira let go of his hands so she can check them too, carefully wrapping the few that are bruised and swollen, just in case they are broken. It’s when she begins to apply ointment to the scrapes that he begins to stir, blue eyes cracking open slowly. It takes a moment for him to register looking in Kaori's worried face, being cradled in Reijirou’s arms, but he goes stiff when he does. They all go still and silent as the boy looks at the adults, breathing picking up speed. It's like all four of them, crammed into that tiny bathroom, are waiting for something to break.

     "Don't TO _UCH ME!!"_ The words crack in the middle, parched and ruined throat giving up as the boy tries to scream, his wings fluttering frantically as he tries to climb backwards off of Reijiro's lap, nearly falling into the tub. He's in hysterics, yelling nonsense as he tries to escape, to somehow phase through the wall of the tub he's cornered himself in, until Akira's voice cuts through it, the brunette climbing into the tub to pull the boy into a hug, gently petting his knotted hair.

     "It's okay - It' - hih - it's okay. They're just my ma - mom and da - had, they won't hurt you I prom-ise." The words hitch with Akira's tears, the brunet crying out of fear of - and for - his new friend. He continues making soothing noises and promises, Reijirou and Kaori holding their breath until slowly, oh so slowly, he goes limp in Akira's arms, both boys sitting down in the cold tub, gripping tightly to each other. The parents are stunned - proud of their son for comforting this boy, but stunned at the violent reaction to touch. To adult touch. Reijirou wants to throw something out a window, preferably whoever made this child scared and knows his wife feels the same, even as she focuses on projecting calm, crouching next to the tub so she can speak softly to the boy.

     "Akira's right, we won't hurt you. I'm just going to bandage you and Akira can help, right sweetie?" A nod from Akira, still crying and hiccuping softly into dirty blond hair, but a blue eye has cracked open to look at her, narrowed and distrustful. The both stare at each other for a few moments before the child tentatively stretches his arm out to her. All of the air leaves her in a rush as she slowly reaches out, squeezing more of the ointment onto her fingers before gently smoothing it over open cuts.

     "Thank you for trusting us. My name is Kaori and my husband is Reijiro, can we ask your name?" There's a pout on the boy's face, obviously thinking about his answer as he watches the medicine being rubbed into his wounds. He takes long enough to answer that she almost forgets what she had asked, but his quiet voice eventually comes, though his voice is muffled in Akira’s shoulder.

     "...Ryo. My name is Ryo."


	3. Barbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief warning for some blood and some implied past child abuse.

     Kaori Fudo is a patient, caring woman, a world class doctor, and she is _above_ violence. It’s what she reminds herself of as she knocks back a strong drink, the same kind that she and Reijiro have always shared when something is big. When they graduated med school, when Akira broke his leg, when she announced she was pregnant. (She wants to smile at that memory, because she'd stolen a drink from Reijiro's drink and been chastised for the rest of the night.) It’s not the drink that sets her insides alight though, but, instead, the fact that there's a second child currently sitting in her living room. A child that's beaten and battered, angrily scared of anyone who is not her son, and she wants to wring someone's neck for causing that little boy's pain. She doesn't mind the impossible wings, the pale foreign looks that would have the Makimura's saying something about angels. She does mind the obvious exposure to the elements, the burns, the scrapes, and she would take him to a hospital if it wasn't for the fact that someone would certainly take that scared little boy and do something worse to him. It doesn't help that the breaks in his wings are almost like.... like someone big had grabbed them and squeezed. Thrown him with the grip on them. Just the thought makes Kaori reach for her husband's drink, huffing as he silently pulls it out of reach from her.

     "Kaori, what are we doing?" Reijiro sighs as he stares into the drink, free hand rubbing at his temple, the other tapping on the glass. "I’ll tell you what we’re doing. We're hiding from some strange winged kid in our own kitchen while we let our son babysit him."

     "No. We're coming up with a strategy." The words are nearly petulant, unbefitting a woman in her thirties, a well known doctor in her field, but she doesn't like that he's right. that they are hiding while Akira and Ryo sit in the living room, watching some cartoon or another. Reijiro humors her though, smiling at her as he slides his glass even further away before she can reach for it again.

     "Okay then, what's the strategy?" Though she didn't have one before, Kaori is a quick thinker and begins to count off plans on her fingers. Lists are the easiest way to make it look like you know what you're doing after all.

     "It's only mid afternoon, but they're both growing boys. So the strategy is food and then seeing if we can get any other information from Ryo." Despite her strong words, her hands gesturing and counting as she talks, she is still half-laying on the kitchen table, mouth set in a frown. She can't help but wonder how long Ryo had been out there, why he'd been out there. Can't help but imagine her little Akira looking like that, and it makes her blood boil even as grief settles heavy in her stomach.

     It’s then that she comes to the decision that she'll die for that little boy out there with her own.

\----------------

     Reijiro ends up helping her put together rice balls, light and filling for both of the boys. It's something they've made together so many times, something that she can go through the habits of while thinking about what to do. She can't send Ryo to school, he'd stick out like a watermelon in a vineyard. Homeschooling would be the answer but she has to see how far he is with schooling first, plus maybe see if the Makimuras can be trusted to let their daughter come play too, he'll need more interaction than just them and Akira ...

     By the time that she's carrying in the rice balls, Reijiro behind her with some drinks for the boys, she's got a plan for tomorrow. It's something that she'll save for tomorrow, she thinks, because the boys are too cute right now. Akira had been explaining the plot of the show they're both watching, waving his hands as he talks and posing to demonstrate the "awesome cool moves" the main character uses while Ryo is laying on his stomach on the couch, watching with fascination. They'd found him a pair of Akira's shorts to wear, had wrapped clean linen and gauze around all of the burns that she'd slathered in aloe. Ryo looks comfortable and relaxed until he notices Kaori and Reijiro, shoulders hunching as his wings go stiff, blocking Akira from view for a moment until he walks around them to snag a rice ball for each of them. Ryo sits up to take his, holding it gently in both hands, blue eyes glaring at the adults until they leave. Kaori knows her house though, knows where to stand to see into the living room and not be seen, she sees the way he nibbles at it before Akira sits next to him. It’s harder to see after that, because Ryo's wings have surrounded both of them, downy feathers protecting as best as they can.

     She lets them eat in peace, sends Reijiro into town for more medical supplies, for some cheap clothing for Ryo, for candy for both of the boys. She hunts down spare bedding, giving Akira's double bed a look. They're both clingy and cuddly, it should be big enough until they can get a second mattress. Normally they’d be separate if just for Ryo’s burns, but she doubts either of the boys will stand for that from the way they already act. She checks in on them both a few more times while she's moving things around, peeking into the living room and watching for a moment before going back to digging out blankets and making a second list of things they need to invest in when they can. A second bed, maybe a bunk bed, more clothes, toys for Ryo - the works.

     By the time Reijiro gets back, she’s located an old camcorder while trying to find more items for Ryo, giggling softly in the doorway to the living room with it in front of her. He carefully sets down the groceries, putting away what needs to be before going to see what has his wife so pleased. On the couch, faintly lit by a table lamp and reruns of Dragon Ball, Akira and Ryo have piled onto each other, Akira leaning against the arm of the couch and Ryo leaning against him, wings loosely curled around them both. Reijiro and Kaori both stand still to watch this scene for a moment before she turns off the camera, setting it down so they can both put up the groceries as quietly as possible. Its mostly medical supplies, but he had picked up ice cream as a treat for the boys, along with some other snacks. (The ice cream would also be good for Ryo's throat, which had been scratchy for all three words they got out of him.) There were some shorts as well, the same size as Akira's and some smaller, since the current pair was only staying on Ryo's skinny hips by the saving grace of drawstrings (Neither of them want to think about the difference between their happy round child and this stick and bones one). The pair worked quickly and quietly, Every thing in its proper spot, Ryo's new clothes folded neatly and left on the table for now. It’s not long before they both head into the living room to take the boys upstairs to bed.

     This is where the trouble begins.

     Kaori notices first that Ryo's face is flushed from more than the burns, whispering for Reijiro to check his temperature before they take him upstairs. It’s as he reaches his hand for the boys head that he snaps awake, startled, biting at his wrist like an animal. It hurts enough that Reijiro curses as he yanks his wrist away, leaving part of his skin in Ryo's teeth, blood smeared around the boy's mouth as he breathes fast and panicky, spitting out the bits in his mouth and baring his teeth as his wings flare to their full extent, all of them fluttering anxiously. The yell had woken Akira, startling him enough to bring tears to his eyes. They turn to full blown bawling when he sees the blood on his father's wrist and the rest on Ryo's face. Both children are working each other up, sobbing and hyperventilating as Reijiro leaves the room, cradling his arm and cursing up a blue streak. Kaori can hear water running in the kitchen, knows that her husband needs to cool down and can handle himself, so it's up to her to handle the kids. She crouches in front of them, used to dealing with Akira's outbursts and knowing that holding his hand is the best way to calm him. Ryo is harder, but she holds Akira's hand in her right and reaches for Ryo's with her left. He flinches as she touches him but doesn't otherwise move, little hand warm and limp in hers as Akira squeezes her other one, his sobbing tapering off, his own free hand reaching for Ryo's. (Kaori notices that he squeezes Akira's hand, wonders about that too.) They sit like that until her knees begin to ache, until both have calmed to small hiccuping breaths.

     "Ryo? Sweetie, I'm going to clean off your face, okay?" Kaori waits for his eyes to focus on her, for him to nod, before she untangles her hand from his and licks her thumb, slowly reaches for his mouth. Ryo's nose scrunches up in something that would be disgust on someone older but is just adorable on his little face as she rubs away the blood. Blood gone, she reaches a little higher, presses her wrist to his forehead, and nods at the fever she finds there.

     "Okay. We're going to take you two upstairs, its time for bed. You can sleep in the shorts Ryo and Akira can change while I get you something for your fever." She lets go of Akira's hand now, backing away from the couch so both of them can hop down. Akira seems excited past his obvious tiredness, chattering softly as he leads Ryo to his room. Its almost astonishingly easy after how the rest of the day had gone to get them both in bed, Akira in pajamas and Ryo dosed with some ibuprofen. She tucks them both in, giving Akira a small kiss on his forehead and ruffling Ryo's hair.

     "Mom?" Akira's voice catches her on the way out of the room, and she turns back to the two pairs of eyes watching her.

     "Yeah?"

     "Is dad okay?"

     "Yeah sweetie."

     "Is he mad at Ryo?" Kaori has to pause for a moment. She knows that Reijiro is probably pissed about having a chunk taken out of his arm, but he won't take that out on a scared boy. She looks at both of them a moment longer, the way that their hands are still joined, and smiles.

     "Nah, he's not mad at Ryo, just upset."

     "Okay.... Goodnight mom."

     "Goodnight boys." She softly shuts the door, leaving it opened a crack like how Akira demands it be, so that he's safe inside, but not alone. Its also good for listening in on the boys and she can only feel a little guilty about doing so.

     "Why'd you bite Dad?" - here she hears something quiet that's probably Ryo answering - "He scared you?" another soft murmur "He's not scary, its okay. You gotta a -pol- lo-gize in the mornin tho, okay?"

     Kaori smiles softly to herself, proud of her son, charmed by the way he’d sounded out the word, and makes her way downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can take the headcanon that Satan/Ryo ended up with some demonic instincts after so long with them from my cold dead hands.  
> Anyways! I hope y'all have been enjoying this ride. All of your sweet comments have been my driving force to keep posting this. If you want you can hit me up on Twitter with the same username.


	4. Feathers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note: the pronoun game is gonna be hella wonky from Ryo's perspective for the rest of the fic

     Ryo is confused.

     That's it, short and sweet and to the point. He's confused about his jumbled memories, all overlapping and wrong. He's confused about why he already lo - trusts Akira. He's confused why Akira's parents are so nice to him, and he's definitely confused about why he has to apologize to Mr. Fudo when he's the one who should apologize, shouldn't have scared him in the first place. Still, he's tired, his wings ache, his everything aches, and the smell of whatever breakfast is is making him want to vomit, so the faster he does this, the faster Akira will let them both go back to the living room. Honestly, he doesn't want to leave the living room, the couch is comfortable and the tv is okay, it has Akira and things to make Akira happy, so he's good with it. Much prefers it to standing in the too sweet smelling kitchen, waiting for one of the adults to notice him. He should speak up, but he wants to save his voice, plus they should have both noticed the children standing there, are probably terrible for not being more attentive. Well, only Ryo was standing, Akira had already taken a place at the table, poking at his mom's arm and laughing at the way she flailed a hand at him without lifting her head or spilling her coffee. It takes another few minutes for Mr. Fudo to turn from making breakfast to notice the pale child staring at him.

     "Morning Ryo." His voice is warm, friendly, what Akira's will sound like in thirty years if he believes his jumbled dreams-not-dreams, and there's a twinge of guilt at sight of the bandage wrapped around his wrist just because of that. Ryo clears his throat before bowing deeply at the waist, repeating the words that Akira had coached him to say that morning while they were getting dressed.

     "I'm very very sorry for biting you and being a butt. You scared me." Not all of the red on Ryo's cheeks as he stands back up are from the lingering fever or the burns, especially not when all three of the Fudos begin giggling at his apology. It makes him want to lash out at these stupid humans, stupid and worthless, ants beneath their feet -

     "Thank you for your apology Ryo. I'm sorry for scaring you." Ryo only ducks his head slightly as Mr. Fudo ruffles his hair, more colour splotching his face before he scrambles up into the chair next to Akira, laying his head on the table and wrapping his arms around it. The dark of it is comforting, along with the knowledge that Akira is next to him. The sounds of something cooking and the smells are nauseating though, and he does his best to ignore them. They’ve got to remember what’s wrong with their memory, why he can’t remember anything right.

     Father threw them out, then -

          Akira died, then -

               A small hand reaching for them -

                    Gabriel laughing with them -

                         Jenny running her hand through his hair -

                              Micheal slamming them into the cliff -

                                   Crying into Akira’s hair -

                                        Shooting at demons -

                                             Akira’s dead again -

                                                  “Don’t leave me -

 

     Ryo growls under his breath, tears springing to his eyes as the memories and thoughts ebb and flow, pain filling his head and he doesn’t even realize that part of it is from tugging at his own hair until Akira’s hand is over his, the other boy sniffling softly, tears already welling up because he's hurting.

     “Ryo? You okay?” He jumps slightly at the voice and contact, snapping back into where he currently is. All three of the Fudos are looking at him with concern and he can’t take all of their eyes on him like this, pitying them when they’re the lowly hu _mans -_

     “I can’t - remember right.” He smacks at the side of his head, below the wing, as if it would rattle something back into place. It doesn’t, all it does is make his head hurt worse and he growls under his breath again, pulling his legs up into the chair. He buries his face in his knees, even as he allows Akira to take his hand, holding it even if it’s limp while the other grasps at his too long - it’s fine - hair. It hurts, but the pain is grounding him, not letting him slip into the confusing spiral of their memories, and he doesn’t pay any mind to the older Fudos until the mother is trying to pry his fingers loose from blond curls. He lets her, barely, turning his head from his knees to give her a dirty look. She doesn’t mind, letting him glare in the face of her soft smile as she holds his other hand, idly pulling the stray strands of hair from between his clenched fingers.

     The rest of breakfast passes in a blur, Ryo shoveling plain omurice into his face, occasionally jerking up to make sure that Akira is still there, isn’t a grown up, isn’t dead and staring blankly at the sky oh _god it’s their faulttheykilledtheonlygoodhuman -_ They jerk their head again when their spoon taps against the empty plate, looking at Akira, who’s eating one handed, still holding his. Mr. and Mrs. Fudo are talking with him about something, shells or some nonsense, and Ryo lets himself relax, squeezing Akira’s hand under the table before shoving his empty plate out of the way so he can rest his head back on the table.

       They’re tired.

\-----------------------

     By the time he wakes again, the kitchen is cleared of both dishes and the smell of breakfast. Ryo’s head is sore from resting it on the edge of the table, and they don’t bother to lift it, turning instead to look at Akira. He’s still in the same spot as before, though he’s obviously been up, a colouring book and crayons spread out around him, paper in front of him. The boy has the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he works on his drawing. It’s silly - it’s charming - and Ryo can’t help the little snicker that escapes him. Akira looks up at him, tongue still sticking out slightly before he grins.

     “Mornin’ Ryo!”

     “Good morning Akira. How long have I been asleep?” Akira shrugs, going back to colouring with the intensity that only children could muster.

     “Dunno. Hasn't been too long though, not lunch time yet. Mom wants to check to make sure you're all okay though and not in-fect-ed.” He sounds out the word carefully, to avoid mispronunciation, and Ryo nods. He slowly stretches himself out, arms reaching across the table as he yawns, wings flaring out behind him and shaking gently, a few loose feathers drifting to the floor in fluff balls. He gives both his sore shoulders and wings another shake before hopping down from the chair, standing next to Akira's to see what he's drawing.

     It's a simple picture, two tall dark haired people standing with a small dark haired one and another one with squiggles coming out of their back. Akira seems proud of his masterpiece, grinning brightly at Ryo as he slides it closer to the blonde for him to observe closer.

     “Its Mom and Dad and Me and You.”

     “This looks nothing like us.” Despite his cold words, Ryo is touched. Its a drawing of a family, and after only one night - but its been so much longer hasn't it? - he's already including Ryo in it. It makes him feel warm inside, warm and soft. Akira is sticking his tongue out at Ryo, offended at the slight to his artistic abilities. He quickly loses his anger though, placing down his crayons before climbing off the chair and taking Ryo's hand in his, gently leading him out.

     “C’mon, let's get you checked out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end!  
> Of the themed chapter titles anyways, these first four introductory chapters are all parts of wings (down feathers, the barbs on the feathers, powder down, and the feathers themselves) after this we're getting into some time skips and it's much less planned out. Feel free to request something you'd wanna see.  
> Feel free to visit me at @psidontknow on Twitter too.


	5. Mend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is late because I don't like it :/

     “How in the world…” The words are muttered under Kaori’s breath, her hands gentle on Ryo's wings and her brow furrowed. The breaks present yesterday were gone but for soreness, maybe a hairline fracture that she can't see. It's amazing, astounding that these bones have already knit themselves together. It makes her want to try and Xray them, to figure out how he's healed broken bones already while there's still bruises on his body, but it had taken far too much cajoling and the promise of ice cream for Ryo to even sit still in front of her and allow her to check his wings. They twitch with every small touch, sensitive and light. Kaori is sure that they must be hollow like a real bird's bones even if the rest of him feels like he's a normal human. She leaves the wings unwrapped as she checks over his burns (healed from a scaly purple to an angry pink) and bruised fingers (sore and purple but mobile) efficiently, filing away information for another day.

     “It looks like you're healing up pretty good, but you're starting to smell like something that washed ashore, so doctor's orders are for a bath and then some ice cream.” Kaori speaks as she stands, gently patting the knotted curls on top of Ryo’s head as she moves to stand in front of him and gives him her best ‘Dr. Fudo knows best’ smile. He simply looks at her with those bright blue eyes, narrowed and red from irritation still, tilting his head like a confused puppy to the side before answering.

     “But I did wash ashore.” The blunt way he states that gets a giggle out of both Akira and Kaori, the elder Fudo giving him a grin.

     “All the more reason to go wash.”

\--------------------

 

     Ryo keeps his wings folded and tucked as far out of the way as they can be, tilting his head back so that Akira can use the shower head on his hair. He can do this easily enough, had demonstrated that by taking off his bandages, by the lack of burns on him, but it feels nice to let Akira do it for them. Akira seems pleased enough by it too, humming under his breath as he runs his fingers through the blond curls and pulling loose debris and knots, tugging too hard to be gentle. Still, Ryo lets him, closes his eyes and looses his thoughts in the constant motion of Akira pulling at the knots, occasionally running small fingers along the wings that sprout from their scalp. It’s soothing, it’s-

     Familiar -

_      Akira running tacky fingers through his hair, laughing at how the gel makes his  _ _ hair stick up - _

__ __ __ _ Their hands gently petting Akira’s hair from his face, cold and still - _

__ __ __ __ _ Slender fingers, still their's , still wrapped in dark hair that they love- _

 

They’re pulled from their thoughts, from drifting memories, by Akira dumping water on his face, Ryo spluttering as the other boy laughs. Akira’s laughter is quickly cut off by Ryo slapping him with one of his wings, loose down floating around his head and sticking in his dark hair. What had been peaceful quickly devolves into floating feathers and water being slung around, Akira’s laughter high and bright, Ryo’s more a small chuffing noise than actual laughter. It’s enough that Reijiro has to poke his head into the bathroom, raising a brow at the mess.

“Boys, Mom wants me to tell you that you have to clean up what ever mess you make.” His voice couldn’t possibly be less chastising, just a light reminder of the consequences their silly playing will have, and Akira grins broadly at him, flashing him a thumbs up.

“‘Kay!” Ryo doesn’t say anything, nods once at Reijirou before snatching the shower head from Akira again and spraying him in the face, grinning as the brunette squawks in indignation. Neither of them notice Reijiro shaking his head before shutting the door, getting out of the blast radius, too busy having fun, being children.

\-------------------

 

It’s later, when they’re clean and set up with bowls of ice cream, all of Ryo’s lingering cuts and burns checked over again and rewrapped, that he remembers. Nothing in particular brings up the memory, the boys are just sitting on the couch, still a little damp and watching the same show as before, but he remembers the rain. It had rained, and Akira had found it - same as he’d found them - and had tried so hard to save it. Sometimes it thrived, sometimes it did not. But it was always the same, both of them in the rain, Akira crying over a cardboard box. They don’t remember what was in it, but they remember the weight of the box cutter in their hand, the way their arm cramped from holding the umbrella over their only friend. They’d mocked him, not purposefully, but Ryo can’t help but think that they’d been cruel.

He’d been cruel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Ryo makes Reijirou cry, not once, but twice


	6. Pulse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this at midnight before I lose net again.

    Thump.

    Thump Thump.

    The noise is enough to rouse Kaori from sleep, though not enough to make her move beyond throwing an arm over her husband and grumbling something that translates to ‘check on the kid’ before she resumes snoring. It's the usual fare, Kaori's hours at the hospital much harsher than his own making her covet sleep. It's why he doesn't give it much thought to slipping out of bed and shuffling into the hallway in a t-shirt and boxers, scratching at his belly and yawning. He's used to the routine, but not yet an extra child in the house, the sight of a blonde feathered child in the hallway instantly snapping him awake.

    In the few weeks Ryo has been with them, he's healed but for a ring of bruises around his wrist that is finally beginning to yellow, but he's prone to nightmares. It's never anything dramatic, neither Reijirou nor Kaori would have known if Akira hadn't told them that Ryo woke up crying sometimes. (Ryo had ignored Akira for an hour after that, acting like he'd been betrayed. The silent treatment ended as quickly as it started when Akira began crying.) This is the first time he's ever seen the boy up in the night though, shuffling down the hall a few steps and bumping into things before looking around and repeating the cycle. It's concerning, both the child being awake before the birds and the uncharacteristic clumsiness. 

    “Ryo?” Reijirou’s voice is soft as he gently places a hand on the boy's shoulder, tempering himself for a violent outburst, another thing Ryo is prone to when startled. To his surprise, Ryo just tilts his head to look at him, eyes half lidded and face oddly slack.

    “What are you doing out here, kiddo?” It takes the boy a moment to process the question, blinking slowly before mumbling a response.

    “‘m lookin’ f’r Jenny.” Reijirou crouches down to Ryo's level, so that his heavy head would stop tilting back and forth like he couldn't hold it up, tempering his expression to be gentle, even if his heart seems to be tap dancing in his chest at the idea of knowing where Ryo came from. It's strange to see this boy so vulnerable, even stranger that he's talking about someone from before he'd washed ashore, something he'd yet to do during daylight hours.

    “Who’s Jenny?” Ryo frowns at the question, a little thing that they've all quickly learned is Ryo for “that's a stupid question you should know the answer to.”

    “She's my - “ He breaks for a moment to yawn, a high pitched squeak coming from him “ - she's my Jenny. She neve’ lea’es in case I need s’me’in’.” Ryo's blinks are getting longer, the boy swaying in place and Reijirou takes a chance on picking him up, standing with the boy. Nothing bad happens here either, Ryo sleepily curling closer to his warmth, wings limply hanging towards the floor as he makes a low trilling noise, something akin to a pigeon’s coo. Reijirou carefully walks back to Ryo and Akira's shared room, slowly placing the boy in his normal nest of soft blankets next to Akira. As he stands to leave, a small hand catches in his shirt.

    “Reijirou?”

    “Yeah Ryo?

    “You're warmer than Jenny.” Ryo's little hand drops from him then, the boy wiggling in to get comfortable for a second before he begins snoring softly. Reijirou isn't going to focus on the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest, the need to do a little victory dance because this weird kid is growing closer to him, and creeps out of the room as quietly as possible, smiling all the while.

\-------------

    Ryo sleep walking becomes another normal occurrence. About once a week, Reijirou finds him walking around, sometimes turning on lights because ‘Akira needs them to fly home’ or staring blankly at a wall before saying something weird. It's generally nonsense, things about faces on shells, multicolored lights on bodies, birds on the moon. 

    Once, Ryo looks him in the eye, face sleepy and slack as it normally is during these episodes, before speaking clearly.

    “You'll kill your wife and it will kill Akira too.”

    Reijirou can't sleep the rest of that night, tucking the boy back in before snuggling tight against Kaori, arms wrapped tight around her waist. He knows it's just nightmares, weird tricks of a child's mind, but it doesn't stop the tears that well in his eyes or the need to hold her close and feel her heart beat with his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, the idea that made me wanna write this tbh. Ryo looking for "his" Jenny. I'm a sucker for the idea of Jenny p. much being Roy's guardian in crybaby type verses.  
> Sorry for not replying to comments, my net's been few and far between but I love every comment that comes through, it really inspires me to continue writing this (and the... Four? or so other Devilman fics in the works)   
> Next chapter: Ryo huffs and puffs and.... That's about it


	7. Changes

     The blurry not - dreams Ryo has are hard to remember, hard to navigate while he's in them let alone when he's awake, even after four months of living with the Fudos. There's one thing that he's dreamed of several times, of living with no wings forcing him to cut holes in his shirts, forcing him to be stuck in this tiny little prison house. One morning he wakes with a thought lingering from his dreams and tells Akira to head downstairs ahead of him with a knowing smile.

     Alone, he sits on the floor, takes a deep breath, and focuses. Tries to imagine his wings first dissolving into motes of light and then imagines them melting back into his skin, leaving two pale scars over dark shoulders. These are not memories of themself, he knows that they're of someone precious, but the concept should surely be the same. It takes long, far too long, and he finally gives up with a huff when Kaori calls him down for breakfast, wiggling into a butchered shirt (‘cheap and ugly’ they whisper) before stomping down stairs.

     He's in a sour mood the rest of the day.

\-------

     Snow begins to fall and he can't go outside still. They're cold watching Akira without them through the glass, a strangely familiar melancholy in his heart. 

\-------

     He begins to practice imagining his wings melting away in the mornings and nights when he can't sleep. When not - dreams of blood and violence and people doing gross things rouse him from his bed, he tries to imagine looking how he looks in those dreams. He tries to imagine being that sure in his own skin, and knows that they won't be able to again. 

\------

     He asks Kaori to cut his hair when she cuts Akira's, to shave the bottom close and leave the top longer, though no longer enough to pull back. He still doesn't trust anyone with the fragile wings on his head. There's too many dreams of white feathers amidst red - gold - blood and a frozen face.

\------

     He tries again.(They were always stubborn.) Again and again and again and aga - “As many times as it takes” - in and again. 

\------

     The blue turtleneck Ryo wiggles into is soft, new, and it makes him undeniably warm. He digs out a pair of jeans, studying them and imagining how they would look with the sweater before slipping into them. He grabs Akira's spare coat before heading downstairs, a giddy little feeling in his heart. It had snowed again, big fluffy flakes that had frozen to a perfect snowball making condition overnight and Akira and Reijirou were both downstairs bundling up, Kaori wrapped in a blanket on the couch and nursing tea. She more than likely expects Ryo to sit with her as he has when the others run outside, as he normally does. He doesn't mind this time with her, she lets him read the textbooks that she and Reijirou still have around, helps scratch at the itchy parts of his feathers and shares her tea. He wants to go outside though, to play with Akira and yell like normal children, to feel the chill of the wind in his hair. It's why he tromps downstairs and to the entryway, head held high as he stops in front of where Akira is struggling to pull up his snow boots with his mittens on.

     “I'm going out with you.” It's not a question, it's a statement, a fact, he's going to go outside and play in the snow and no one can say otherwise. Akira has a concern on his tongue as he looks up, stopping short as he sees Ryo in front of him, arms crossed and face stern. He lurches to his feet, one shoe on while his mittened hands grasp at Ryo's shoulders, tears already welling up in wide brown eyes.

     “Ryo! Where are your wings? Did they fall off?! Oh my gosh, mom, MOM, RYO'S WINGS ARE GO-” Ryo slaps his hand over Akira's mouth, a little frown on his face. They’d thought that Akira would be pleased to have another playmate, though the concern makes them warm behind his ribs. He doesn't get a chance to explain himself further before the elder Fudos run into the entry way and take in the sight of Ryo, standing there like any other child, hand still over Akira's mouth.

     “I remembered how to put away my wings, it's as simple as that.” Ryos voice is as steady as normal, hand still clamped over Akira’s mouth despite the ache in his wrist beginning. It's not as simple as that, he'd stood in the bathroom for five minutes when his wings had disappeared that morning, running his fingers over the silvery scars that stretched from the edges of his clavicle, back and down to where his spine connected to his pelvic bone, touched the similar scarring on his ankles, felt for the ones hidden under his hair. It felt wrong wrong wrong for them to be like this, but it meant they could follow Akira, meant that no one could restrict where they went, and he'd tucked that feeling deep down in the same place that he tucked his not dreams that left behind a taste of betrayal and sadness.

     “That means you can come out to play now, right?” Akira’s words are muffled behind Ryo's hand still, the child practically vibrating with excitement as he pulls the appendage away (ignoring Ryo’s look of disgust at the saliva left behind) and looks at his parents.

     “He can now, right?” Both Kaori and Reijirou are looking flabbergasted, eyes wide and mouths gaping as they stare at Ryo. Neither knows what to say, how it'd possible or if they should study it, monitor Ryo, and so they say what any confused parent would say. 

     “Uh, sure.”

\-----------

     Ryo discovers that he does not like the snow after hours of rolling in it, tossing it, sledding with Akira and Reijirou. He's happy that he was able to come to that conclusion himself though, smiling into his hot chocolate with a towel draped around his shoulders. He's so happy that he doesn't even protest when Kaori snaps a picture of him on her phone. He's happy, leaning against the couch back with Akira and Reijirou as they all warm up. 

     They're happy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of what I've had previously written, so updates are gonna be extra slow from here on out.
> 
> Follow me @psidontknow on Twitter for updates and me crying at four am about Ryokira and Miki^2
> 
>  
> 
> Explanation below for the slow updates
> 
> Long story short: I'm mcfucking depresso my dudes, so writing is going bad. I'm sorry about the delays
> 
> Long story slightly less long : I was involved in a fire the week that I posted the first chapter of this and I've been trying to truck through with writing this on my phone (p much the only thing I grabbed before running out) but it's been confirmed that the company that owned the place threw out everything without letting us see what we could salvage so I'm mcfucking depresso. The writing juices ain't flowing as well, but I'm hoping after we settle in a new home or at least I replace my computer that I'll be back up to par.


End file.
